


These Captivated Hours

by Moriavis



Series: He loves me at a distance [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alpha!Barry, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, M/M, Omega!Len, Porn with Feelings, Top!Barry, bottom!len
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 12:16:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15096524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moriavis/pseuds/Moriavis
Summary: Eobard Thawne offered Barry Allen an opportunity to save his mother in return for letting him go back to his time.Of course, Leonard Snart would show back up when Barry was emotionally compromised. Of course.





	These Captivated Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Ha, I am back! I have a thing for you to read! I'm super stoked, I haven't written anything in months.
> 
> First, thanks to saekwha for the lightning fast beta. (She pitied me, I was an anxious ball of angst.)
> 
> Secondly, this is the sequel to Everything Carries Me to You. You don't have to read the first one for it to make sense, but it definitely adds a little more dimension to it. I did fudge the timeline a little bit in season one, putting more time between the betrayal at Ferris Air and the wormhole at the end of S1, so sorry about that.
> 
> Thanks, guys! I hope you enjoy this!

~*~

Barry raised his hand to get the bartender's attention again and waited until he finished with his customer. His expression didn't change as he switched Barry's empty glass with another tumbler of whiskey, and Barry nodded in thanks before he sipped his fresh drink. It wasn't Saints and Sinners, but it was the kind of place where no one would ask questions as long as Barry had money, and what he needed most was peace.

He could still see Wells — _Thawne_ — in his mind, hear his fevered, impassioned voice. His plan, his need to flee back into the future, the opportunity he was offering in return that Barry desperately wanted to take. 

He shook his head, trying to clear it, and slammed back his drink, hoping the burn would distract him from the running list of pros and cons he was keeping in the back of his head. What Thawne was promising—Was it even possible? A world with his mother alive, his dad free? An alternate timeline, a _better_ timeline, where the accelerator never exploded, where he remained a beta with a normal life spread out before him? Maybe he and Iris would be for real in that timeline, the way he'd always dreamed they would be.

The only problem was that he couldn't trust Thawne. The stakes were so high. It sounded too good to be true, too much of what he wanted. He'd said his goodbyes to the people he loved, but even that hadn't made his decision any easier. He was caught in the maybes, the what ifs. He loved his friends and family with everything he had. How could he leave them? How could he risk never meeting Cisco and Caitlin when their friendship meant so much? And how much better would their lives all be with one small change?

Barry sighed and raised his hand for another drink, wishing for the third time that night that he could just get drunk.

The door of the bar swung open, letting in a gust of cool wind that was actually nice after the stifling heat of the bar. He didn't turn, giving the same courtesy that he had come searching for himself, but the weight of someone's full attention made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He straightened on his stool and inhaled slowly, scenting the air.

Leonard.

There had been no sign of him in Central at all for the past week.

Barry focused on Leonard almost to the exclusion of everything else: he was wearing the parka, Barry could hear the fur trim of the hood brushing against skin, the rasp of the all-weather treated fabric; he could hear the change in Leonard's footsteps, the odd shift in the air as he stepped forward that meant he was wearing the cold gun in public. Goosebumps raced up Barry's arms — they were stuck in a weird bubble of mutual awareness, and Barry snapped out of it only when the bartender refilled his drink again.

He interlaced his fingers and curled his hands around his glass, wishing he hadn't ordered whiskey on ice because it reminded him of Leonard in the first place.

With their stalemate broken, Leonard moved further into the bar, answering the occasional greeting, fitting in seamlessly. Obviously Saints and Sinners wasn't his only haunt. The smooth rumble of his voice was lost below the classic rock playing from the jukebox, and Barry stole a glance from the corner of his eye, watching Leonard shrug his parka off and drape it over the back of a chair before he sauntered over to the wall to judge the cue sticks.

Barry wasn't the only one watching the way Leonard's black henley pulled tight over his arms when he reached for his cue, and while trying to avoid watching the waistline of Leonard's jeans, Barry's attention was drawn to Leonard's holster instead. Leonard brazenly wore the cold gun like he was untouchable, invulnerable through reputation alone.

A quick spike of envy worked its way through Barry, and he wondered how things might have turned out different if he'd been the one in control when he'd confronted Thawne. The thought hurt too much to explore, and he drank his whiskey, letting it burn down his throat as if the new pain could chase away the old.

Despite his better judgment, Barry took his drink in hand and turned on his bar stool so he could watch the pool game that had started, scanning each of the tables in play. It was so much easier to follow when he could see each possible line and angle with the Speed Force's lightning simplicity.

As always, despite himself, Barry settled his attention on Leonard.

Leonard narrowed his eyes at the table as he considered his strategy, and after a moment he took a step closer, bending over the pool table to make his shot — a good one too, if he could pull it off. Striped yellow ball into corner pocket for sure, maybe even the green striped ball into the side pocket. Barry's attention drifted from the cue stick back to Leonard's arms, and the sensory memory of Leonard's shirt clenched tight in his hands rose in him like a ghost. It was too much for Barry right now, the need to touch Leonard twisting into a tense ball in the pit of his stomach.

He wanted to snap, to bare his teeth and growl at the betas who dared to look at Leonard like they stood a chance, and the urge to fight, to rend them for _daring_ grew in him until he realized his empty hand was curled into a fist, the muscles of his forearm cording from the strain.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to relax as he rubbed his hand over his face. Iris. Leonard. The urge to fight over someone who wasn't even his was getting too familiar, too humiliating. Shame rippled over him like nausea, and he inclined his head toward the bartender. He would pay his tab and go home, spend his time thinking in a place that wouldn't make his head swim.

Barry signed the receipt and slid his debit card into his wallet, stealing one last glance toward Leonard as he rose from his stool. Leonard was blatantly watching him, eyes narrowed and intense, and Barry nodded curtly in acknowledgement and drained the last of the alcohol from his glass.

To his surprise, Leonard passed his pool cue off to someone waiting to play a game and grabbed his parka, fingers hooked in the hood as he swung it over his shoulder. He walked toward Barry with the calm assurance of someone who knew he was always being watched, and leaned against the bar, his gaze flickering up and down the length of Barry's body. Sweat rose on the back of Barry's neck — there was no way Leonard didn't know exactly how he made Barry feel. He wished Captain Cold would play fair, just once.

"Leaving already?" Leonard draped the parka over the empty bar stool next to Barry's and raised his hand, pretending to inspect his fingernails even though the gleam of his pale eyes meeting Barry's proved the lie. "Thought you'd at least buy me a drink."

Barry stared at Leonard for a second, not entirely sure how he felt about being all but told to buy Leonard a drink in the first place. Leonard cocked his eyebrow. Barry rolled his eyes before he dug out his wallet and turned back to the bar. The bartender was more attentive than he'd been at any point earlier in the night, and he nodded as Barry ordered another whiskey on ice. Barry paid, sliding a couple of bills across the bar, and then turned his attention back on Leonard, who smirked at Barry's choice of drink.

"There," Barry said as the bartender slid the drink over to Leonard. "Satisfied?"

"Never." Leonard's smile was a sharp slash across his face, and Barry struggled with the urge to lean in and kiss him until he was soft again.

Barry looked away first, toward the vicinity of his shoes. "I thought you left Central."

Leonard shrugged, sipping his drink like it was worth more than whatever ten dollars could buy in alcohol. "Maybe I did."

Barry clenched his jaw. Being forced to leave Leonard to deal with that meta still stung. Coming back to that empty safe house had been worse. "I—" Barry cleared his throat and made himself look back at Leonard. "I went back. You were already gone, but… I did go back."

Leonard raised his hand and gestured, his long fingers graceful even with the throwaway motion. "Would it make you feel better if I told you I left five minutes after you did?"

Barry considered that, turning the idea over in his mind. "Not really," he confessed. "It would have meant more if you'd waited for me."

Leonard shrugged, ceding the point as he cast a contemplative look down at his whiskey and took a sip. After a moment, the air growing thicker with tension between them, he said, "I thought about walking out tonight."

"I know." Barry resisted the urge to fidget, intensely aware that they had an audience. 

Captain Cold was speaking to some nobody. Barry could practically smell the curiosity from the other bar patrons. It left him rattled, and he folded his arms over his chest to prevent himself from reaching out, from resting his hands on Leonard's hips and pressing closer until Leonard smelled right and no one had any doubts about where Leonard belonged. 

He searched desperately for something else to think about, and he circled back to his original problem. "Hey, can I… Can I ask you a question?"

Leonard shrugged, but Barry could feel the weight of his attention like a spotlight.

Barry took a long breath, held it. Exhaled. "If you could change the most horrible event in your life, would you? Even if it meant that someone you hated got away? Even if it changed the lives of everyone around you?"

"Obviously." Leonard's response was immediate, surprising Barry with the speed of his answer. 

What did it feel like, to be that self-assured? What kind of life had Leonard lived that made such a difficult question so easy to answer?

"Anyone who was honest with themselves would say the same thing," Leonard said, finishing his drink, setting the glass down, and turning away from Barry. He leaned against the bar. "But this doesn't sound like a hypothetical. Someone making you an offer, Barry?"

"I guess you could say that."

"Let me tell you something I learned a long time ago, kid." Leonard shook his head and glanced at Barry from the corners of his eyes. "You don't owe anybody anything. If you were to hypothetically change the worst moment of your life, no one would blame you. No one would even know."

"I would know," Barry said.

Leonard scoffed. "Yeah." Something went cool and distant in his eyes, like he was imagining how different the world would be if he were given the same choice. "Worth it."

Barry's heart wrenched in his chest — he wanted to reach out, to touch Leonard and chase the shadows from his eyes, but he knew Leonard wouldn't allow it. Not with so many witnesses. He leaned back instead, resting his elbows on the bar as he mirrored Leonard's position. "If I never become the Flash, we'd probably never meet."

Leonard smirked and glanced at Barry again. "Are you feeding me a line?"

Barry laughed and ducked his head, stealing a look at Leonard and flushing when their eyes met. "I'm terrible at flirting."

Leonard tilted his head, the banked heat in his eyes made Barry freeze, his breath locking in his chest. "Try."

Barry's heartbeat quickened, and he swallowed against a sudden onset of nerves. He ran their entire conversation over in his mind. He'd been so focused on trying to maintain his quiet evening that he hadn't processed Leonard's behavior. Had he been waiting for Barry to acknowledge him when he'd walked in? The way he'd stretched over the pool table when he knew Barry was watching. The way he came to the bar only when Barry nodded his goodbye. Was it some dynamic thing he'd missed? He hadn't wanted to cause a scene, but maybe that's what Leonard had been looking for.

It was different, having Leonard actually invite Barry's attention instead of dodge it, and it made the alpha in Barry coil restlessly. He wanted to cage Leonard in his arms and bite him until he was bruised with marks, until everyone in Central realized they belonged together. 

Barry closed his eyes and rubbed his head. He hated the way he went from zero to a hundred with the slightest provocation. It was exhausting as hell.

When Barry opened his eyes again, he discovered that Leonard was still watching him, waiting out his long silence, and Barry completely blanked, blurting out the first thing he thought of.

"If you were a tree, you'd be an evergreen. I bet you look this good year-round."

They stared at each other in silence. A painful, prickling flush crawled up Barry's face, and he buried his face in his hands, pushing away from the bar so he could go home and hide in shame.

Then Leonard laughed, soft and genuine, and he reached out, snagging one of Barry's belt loops with his fingers and tugging him back. "I didn't think I was a snowman, but you just made my heart melt." 

Barry lowered his hands from his face and looked back at Leonard. "What?"

Leonard stepped away from the bar and stepped into Barry's space, curling his other hand possessively over Barry's hip. "That all you got, kid? I'm disappointed."

"What can I say?" Barry was breathless just from the way Leonard touched him, dizzy from their proximity, and he swallowed, hesitantly letting his hands come to rest on Leonard's forearms. "I'm frostmitten with you."

Leonard snorted, settling into his smarmiest, smuggest grin. "Do I have a fever? Because you're—"

"—Giving me the chills," Barry finished in unison with Leonard before he laughed. "I think, just maybe, that you're the worst."

Leonard inclined his head in acceptance and patted Barry's hip, releasing him. "It's the last day of your life. Don't waste time thinking when you could be enjoying what's left of it."

"That sounds like an invitation."

"Does it?"

Barry tightened his hands on Leonard's arms, not quite willing to let their camaraderie go so easily. "What were your plans before you saw me?"

Leonard shrugged and turned out of Barry's grasp, slipping his hands into his pockets, looking self-assured and entirely unaffected. "Thought I'd get in a couple of games of pool. Some beer. Maybe give Angie a call if I felt up to it."

Barry growled instinctively, jealousy clenching at his gut, and Leonard's smirk deepened, as if Barry's response was exactly what he'd been looking for. "Who's Angie?"

"Angie is a gorgeous incompatible beta with interesting toys," Leonard drawled. "She's always good for some fun."

Barry glared at Leonard, his eyes narrowing further at the satisfied gleam in Leonard's eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm weighing my options." Leonard flicked his eyes up and down Barry's body. "I should've walked out the moment I saw you."

Barry shook his head slowly, his irritation fading into confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"It's our last night on earth. Best time to make a bad decision." Leonard cocked his head to the side. "Thought that line would work better coming from me."

Barry directed his attention entirely on Leonard, an odd, prickling sensation crawling up his spine. "After last week, I thought you weren't interested."

"I'm not interested in wasting my time," Leonard corrected.

"What if… this isn't our 'last night on earth'?" Barry managed to force out, stepping back into Leonard's space and curling his fingers around Leonard's side. He radiated warmth, and Barry wanted to lean into him, wanted to close his eyes and breathe him in. "What if I don't take him up on his offer?"

Leonard made a sound that was in no way an answer and then swept his tongue over his bottom lip, one quick movement that left his mouth glistening. Barry wanted to lean forward and kiss him so much it physically hurt.

"If you're playing games with me again, I'm gonna pass," he choked out. "I thought we had an understanding last week, before Thawne messed everything up."

Leonard shrugged and pulled away to snag his parka from his stool and shrug it on. "I've said what I needed to say. Stay or come with me, that's on you." He stared at Barry for a minute longer, waiting for some sort of response that Barry was unable to give, and then he turned on his heel and headed toward the door.

"What are you waiting for?!" The bartender gave Barry a little shove from the back, making him stumble forward in surprise. "That's Captain Cold. Just got as much of an invitation as you're gonna get."

"Since when have you been my wingman?" Barry scoffed, but regardless, it was enough to jog him out of the fog of uncertainty. His instincts took over, the need to touch Leonard again crawling like an itch beneath his skin, and he headed toward the door.

The air was colder than he expected when he stepped out of the stuffy, warm bar, and he stood in place for a second, letting the crisp air clear his head. Leonard was walking toward his motorcycle, and Barry stared as Leonard unlocked his helmet and swung his leg over the bike before he turned to quirk his eyebrow at Barry. 

"Are you coming?"

Barry nodded as he inched closer, the image of Leonard on his motorcycle searing into his mind, and he swallowed again, fumbling when Leonard tossed him a helmet and almost dropping it. He almost asked what it was for, why he needed a helmet when he could run anywhere in the city before Leonard started the engine, but then he thought about riding the motorcycle behind Leonard, being allowed to wrap his arms around Leonard and hold him tight. Barry ran the last few steps separating them and took the seat behind Leonard, burying his face in the juncture of Leonard's neck and shoulder and breathing him in, deep and slow.

They stood like that for a minute, Barry nuzzling happily at Leonard's throat, and then Leonard patted his knee in a facsimile of sympathy before he said, "Helmet, or we're not moving."

Barry growled, unconscious and heartfelt, and his mood darkened further when Leonard laughed at him outright, elbowing him in the side to get enough space to put his helmet on. Barry followed suit, fastening his helmet with a crackle of lightning and then he pressed in close again, curling his arms around Leonard's waist. The rumble of the bike beneath them was surprisingly comforting, and Barry matched his breathing to Leonard's as they pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the road. 

Now that Barry had Leonard in reach, he couldn't stop himself from touching, even though — or maybe especially _because_ — Leonard was driving. He seemed warmer now that they were out in the open air, the wind beating against them as Leonard revved the engine. Barry slid his hands beneath Leonard's half-zipped parka, mapping Leonard's chest and stomach by touch as he let Leonard's body heat sink into him. Firm chest, a little softness around his middle that made Barry croon, some animal part of his brain desperately longing for a physical claim to Leonard's body that he knew he couldn't have. Leonard's long, denim-covered legs drew Barry's attention next, and he satisfied himself by flattening his hands over Leonard's upper thighs, keeping well away from the cold gun for everyone's peace of mind.

The bike wobbled when Barry slid his hand between Leonard's thighs, palming his dick through his jeans, and Leonard swatted at his hand, seizing Barry's wrist in a tight grip as he dragged Barry's hand back to the safer zone of his stomach. Barry snorted; he could stop an accident before anyone got hurt, but he obediently stopped roaming, clutching handfuls of Leonard's parka to remind himself to stay still.

The drive was a blessing and a torture — close enough to touch, but the helmets were in the way of scenting properly; Barry was both soothed by the heat of Leonard's body sinking into him, and annoyed at the layers of clothing that separated them. Barry's attention was pulled away from the line of Leonard's shoulders only because of a sense of deceleration, and he looked around as Leonard pulled into a small alleyway and lowered his kickstand. Barry had assumed that they'd go back to the same small house he'd taken Barry to before, but that apparently wasn't the case. 

Even hidden as they were from the neighborhood's prying eyes, Barry sat patiently on Leonard's bike until Leonard turned off the engine and unbuckled his helmet, gesturing to the door off to the left. Barry slid off the bike and unfastened his helmet, holding it carefully in his hands. He knew approximately where they were, but he generally didn't find himself in the area unless it was for work or Flash business, so he waited as Leonard unlocked the door and walked in.

Even though it was a plain warehouse on the outside, inside it looked like a fairly comfortable safe house. Leonard turned on the light and gestured at the wall to Barry's right, where there were hooks to hang their helmets. Barry took Leonard's helmet and flashed to the wall to put both helmets in place, and then sped back, skidding a step or two as he curled his hands around Leonard again like it was a compulsion he had to satisfy. He buried his face against the curve of Leonard's throat and breathed deep, scenting Leonard in the way he'd been craving.

It immediately eased some of his anxiety, and for a moment he entertained the fantasy of biting Leonard right there, too high for a sweater or a jacket to hide it. He almost did it, grazing his teeth against Leonard's throat in an attempt to find a satisfying angle, but then Leonard reached back and grabbed a handful of Barry's hair, yanking hard until Barry abandoned the idea.

" _Ow_."

"I told you no biting." Leonard's voice was dark and annoyed as he tried to twist in Barry's grasp, and Barry grinned, leaning in just enough to feel Leonard's breath. He'd wanted to be that close last week, when he'd raced back to the empty house and realized he'd been left behind.

"We agreed on one bite," Barry corrected, closing his eyes as he turned his head, rubbing his cheek against Leonard's. "Somewhere different. I get it." 

Now that they were alone, in a place that smelled of Leonard, with a touch of Mick and Lisa, the tight, fierce ball of adrenaline started to unravel. There wasn't anyone to fight here, no claiming display to be made. Barry opened his eyes and raised his hands to cradle Leonard's face, sweeping his thumb over the arch of Leonard's cheeks. 

There was no way he was going to answer the phone tonight, no emergency that would rip him away, and the luxury of time made Barry want to tease, made him want to touch Leonard in a way he might never touch Leonard again.

Barry smiled to himself, tilting his head as he gauged Leonard's attention, cataloging every change of expression, the way the annoyance smoothed away the longer he waited for Leonard to make the next move. Much as he wanted to close the distance between them and steal a kiss, it was more meaningful to see how long he could wait before Leonard decided to move to the next step.

Leonard pushed Barry away, a smirk curling the edge of his lips, and he broke away to head further into the safe house. Barry took the chase at face value and followed after him, pressing Leonard against the nearest wall. He used just a touch of his speed to turn Leonard the right way, flat against the drywall as Barry slotted their legs together. He scooted an inch to the right to avoid the hard line of the cold gun holster, and it brought him in, close and intimate.

They stared at each other, and Barry licked his lips, unable to hear anything over the way his heartbeat pounded in his ears. His attention flitted from Leonard's eyes to his mouth to his shoulders, the fluffy curve of Leonard's hood strangely soft. Just when Barry was about to step away, about to confess that he wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to do next, Leonard leaned in, closing the distance between them and licking his way between Barry's slack lips with a satisfied purr. The sound made Barry shudder all over, and he grunted when Leonard cupped his ass, pulling him forward into a hard grind against Leonard's thigh that made him whimper helplessly, a sound that made Leonard sink his hand into Barry's hair to hold him in place.

He gasped against Leonard's tongue, taking this as an invitation, _hoping_ it was, and he chased after Leonard's mouth with complete abandon. The kiss was a playful clash of tongue and teeth, and although he was sure he could trap Leonard there against the wall and kiss him for hours, Barry had other plans. 

He slid his hand down Leonard's back, his fingers catching on the seams of the parka, and he reached for the zipper, pulling it down. Leonard pulled away from the wall and shrugged the parka off, letting it fall as he pushed Barry back, releasing his grip on Barry's hair to take him by the shoulder and point him in the direction of what he hoped was a bedroom. He was struck with what a great idea it was, how perfect it was to get them in a room and lock the rest of the world out.

He wrestled the door open, and he would have fallen over his own feet if Leonard hadn't caught him, braced as if he'd expected Barry to do something like that all along. Barry broke the kiss to close the door and he leaned against it to get his bearings. His heart was thudding hard in his chest, and although every instinct was screaming at him to get back into Leonard's space and continue where they left off, he needed to stop, to look his fill — there was a bed, but that detail was fuzzy, because he couldn't _stop_. Leonard's mouth was red from Barry's kisses, eyes pupil-dark and pinned on Barry's face with the laser precision that he always seemed to save for heists, and he was so, so beautiful that Barry's heart wrenched in his chest, his eyes stinging.

This wasn't anything other than goodbye.

Leonard reached out and grabbed Barry's jacket, yanking him forward out of his thoughts and into another hard kiss. Barry's knees went embarrassingly weak as Leonard kissed him, and he lowered his hands to Leonard's hips, his grip tight as they stood there, pressed together from lips to knee.

"Bed?" Barry pleaded, and Leonard nodded jerkily, letting Barry strip away his jacket before they stumbled together the few more steps toward the bed. They kissed again and again — long, hot kisses where Barry lost time sucking on Leonard's tongue, separating for short, soft pecks whenever they needed a second to breathe — and it felt like hours before they finally made it, Leonard reaching out a hand behind him before he sank down onto the bed.

Barry gasped against Leonard's lips, digging his fingers into the curve of Leonard's shoulders as Leonard guided them down. Barry was nearly ready to follow Leonard anywhere, already panting, sweat starting to tickle at his hairline, and he growled when Leonard pushed him backwards. Leonard cupped Barry's jaw in his hands, but Barry didn't want to be soothed, looking at Leonard through his eyelashes as he gently gripped Leonard's wrist and pressed a kiss against the vulnerable skin.

Leonard cocked his head, looking Barry over like he wasn't quite sure he could believe Barry was in his bed. The thought was a splash of cold water against his overheated brain; how many people had felt special with Leonard Snart only to be used in the end — but then Leonard crawled over him, swinging his leg over Barry to straddle his hips, and Barry stopped thinking.

Barry curled his hands against the back of Leonard's thighs, feeling out every twitch of muscle, the small tension Leonard carried by hovering over Barry the way he was, not even leaning back into the cradle of Barry's hips, where he could take some of Leonard's weight. It didn't matter — he was touching Leonard, and his fingers were trembling as he moved from the back of Leonard's thighs to curl his hands against the small of his back. Leonard looked slimmer without the parka, and Barry wanted to peel him out of the rest of his clothes, wanted to mark his stomach with bites, wanted to make him smile the way he had at the bar.

Leonard's throat worked as he looked down at Barry, and Barry licked his lips, squeezing Leonard's hips as a reminder to himself that he needed to stay in control. Barry stared up unblinkingly, his heart pounding a tattoo of delight against his ribcage. It was really happening, and Barry was breathless with anticipation as he slid his fingers beneath Leonard's shirt. 

In the next second, Leonard was off the bed, his face smoothing back into that unreadable mask he wore, his eyes glittering as if Barry had done something wrong.

Barry hoped he hadn't done anything wrong.

Leonard averted his eyes and then turned away, sitting on the edge of the bed to untie his boots. 

Barry remained still, and then slowly rested his hand on Leonard's back, even though it killed him to be so cautious. Whatever roadblock he'd accidentally stumbled into, he didn't want Leonard to think he would be a jerk and push for anything Leonard wasn't ready to give. 

Barry waited until Leonard had pulled off his boots and socks before he followed his lead, kicking off his own shoes and rising to his knees as he unbuckled his belt. When Leonard turned around again, something relaxed in his face, tension easing from his body. He unfastened the holster and carefully set it aside. The cold gun itself Leonard set on the bedside table, a reminder of who he was, how dangerous he could still be, and Barry had to close his eyes, swallowing convulsively. It was unfair how much he wanted Leonard. Enough to settle for—for what? A one night stand he was only offering because he thought it was his last chance?

Leonard unfastened his jeans, and Barry couldn't stop himself from touching again, reaching out to cup Leonard's face in his hands and bringing him in for a soft kiss. His heart ached, because Leonard had been right. He would be an idiot if he didn't take the chance to save his mother, to save his father, and that made this more than a one night stand.

Barry pulled away just far enough to pull his shirt over his head, and he tossed it off the edge of the bed as he met Leonard's eyes. It was more of an inevitability than a challenge when he took hold of the hem of Leonard's shirt and started to pull it up. Leonard took the hint, peeling his henley off and watching Barry with glittering eyes, as if waiting to see what Barry would do next. 

There were scars, yes, but so much skin that it made Barry dizzy, sick with all the possibilities in front of him. He leaned forward and caught Leonard's mouth in another kiss as he mapped Leonard out, learning the topography of Leonard's body with his fingers. He followed with his mouth, darting his tongue out to taste the line of Leonard's clavicle, his sternum, the bud of his nipple. He didn't linger on the scars, but he didn't try to avoid them. Leonard was his, and that meant he accepted all the baggage that came along with him, too.

Inspired, Barry pulled Leonard into his arms and toppled him over onto the bed, smiling even though—because Leonard was scowling. Barry bent down and brushed his nose against Leonard's, turning his face so he could nuzzle at Leonard's neck, pressing delicate kisses against the soft skin at the juncture of Leonard's jaw and throat until Leonard gave in and relaxed against the bed, his hands moving up and down Barry's sides in a caress.

Barry mouthed at Leonard's pulse but didn't bite, sucking gently at Leonard's skin until he reached Leonard's earlobe. He bit at Leonard's jaw and then soothed the sting away with a swipe of his tongue before he sat up.

"Do we have—"

"Drawer," Leonard said, and Barry turned to the nightstand, opening the drawer and finding, not only condoms and lube, but nitrile gloves as well. 

He turned a delighted smile Leonard's way, and grabbed everything, setting it on the bed in easy reach.

"Don't get too excited," Leonard said wryly, but Barry just shook his head.

"You don't have to keep reminding me of the rules," Barry chided. "I can be happy that we're here together."

Leonard's eyebrows knitted together in a frown, and he pushed himself up on one hand, curling the other around Barry's nape and pulling him in. "You're screwed up, Barry."

Barry snorted. "Pot, kettle." He closed the distance between them to kiss Leonard again, a deep, inexplicable yearning tightening in his chest. He swallowed and tried to push it away, dancing his fingers over to a spot just below the left side of Leonard's chest. "Can I bite here?"

The corner of Leonard's mouth curved in a smile, and he shook his head.

Barry leaned down to suck a bruise there instead and moved lower, touching a soft, smooth bit of skin dusted with a little dark hair, just above the waistband of his jeans. "Here?"

"Nope." Leonard popped the end of the word, his eyes narrowing on Barry's face when Barry didn't rise to the bait. 

Instead, Barry met Leonard's eyes as he unfastened the button of Leonard's fly and pulled down the zipper. Leonard was hard, and some unrecognized anxiety in Barry's gut relaxed. He could smell it, of course, knew that for better or worse they were both in it for tonight. Barry peeled off Leonard's jeans and underwear and then sat back on his haunches to look at Leonard without distractions.

Leonard rolled his eyes, pillowing his head with one of his arms, his other arm draped over his stomach as he waited for Barry to finish. "Thought you'd be more anxious to get to the main event, but don't let me stop you."

Barry smiled, taking time to appreciate that they were together, that this was happening, and he ran his hands up Leonard's legs, still searching for a place to leave a mark. "What are you talking about? This _is_ the main event."

Leonard blinked, licking his lips, and there was something in his eyes that Barry couldn't identify, so he returned his attention to Leonard's legs. He scooted up on the bed and cupped the back of Leonard's knees, spreading Leonard's legs and very purposely ignoring Leonard's erection as he looked critically at the inner thigh of Leonard's right leg.

"Here," Barry decided, and Leonard sat up to look at the place Barry was suggesting.

"You're not gonna let that go, are you?"

Barry shook his head and stroked the spot again before he turned his head. They were closer than he thought they were, and he cupped Leonard's face in his hands again, kissing him because he could. Leonard's mouth was soft against his, and a shiver of contentment prickled down Barry's spine. He broke the kiss only so he could push Leonard back down to the bed. He grabbed one of the pillows and tucked it beneath the small of Leonard's back, pausing to brush kisses to Leonard's navel as he did so, and then grabbed a condom and one of the gloves. He fit the condom carefully over Leonard and then followed immediately with his mouth.

It felt as good as he'd hoped it would, Leonard filling him, not too big for comfort, a hot, heavy weight that made his mouth water. Leonard curled his hands around the back of Barry's neck, his fingernails digging into Barry's skin, and Barry obeyed the silent command, taking Leonard further into his mouth and sucking gently. He fumbled with the glove, trying to split his attention between preparation and the sensation of Leonard in his mouth, the way Leonard's hands tightened on his hair and skin.

Leonard was already slick when Barry slid his gloved fingers over Leonard's sac and down, pressing carefully into him, and Barry purred in satisfaction, squeezing Leonard's other thigh with his hand. He pulled away and swallowed, licking his lips, and squeezed Leonard's thigh again. 

Barry was dizzy with the smell of them together, and there were so many things he wanted to do, with no time to do them. He tapped the spot on Leonard's inner thigh again, arching his eyebrow as he caught Leonard's gaze, and when there was no complaint forthcoming, he lowered his head and sank his teeth into the muscle. Leonard's leg jerked reflexively, but Barry kept him pinned down, growling instinctively as he kept his jaw clenched, _needing_ to make a mark that would last.

When Barry thought to move his fingers again, Leonard was already more relaxed. Barry nuzzled the bite mark, giving the teeth imprint a kittenish lick. He would've preferred a scar, longing to break the skin and leave an indelible mark that Leonard wouldn't be able to ignore, but he knew he couldn't. He sighed wistfully, but drew away after one final lick, turning his attention back to the task at hand. Leonard had grown wetter, Barry's glove slick all the way up to his palm, and he twisted his fingers, searching for the ancillary Cowper's gland that regulated a male omega's lubrication.

"If you're looking for my prostate, it's not in that direction," Leonard said dryly, and Barry snorted, shaking his head.

"Of course not," Barry agreed, twisting his fingers in the opposite direction and rubbing them directly against Leonard's prostate, just to see him gasp a breath. "Relax, Len. I know what I'm doing."

"That's a first," Leonard quipped, and Barry had to fight against a smile. What an asshole. He always needed to have the last word. 

Barry let him have it, pressing a kiss to Leonard's knee, he hummed in satisfaction as he found what he was looking for, a rush of heat and wetness marking his success. He stroked the gland again, and Leonard squeezed his eyes shut, planting his head against his pillow so hard that the cords of muscle in his neck stuck out in harsh relief. Barry grinned outright and did it again, and Leonard's cock jerked—it was intensely satisfying and he just shrugged when Leonard opened his eyes and glared.

"Don't look at me like that," Barry said soothingly as he pressed a third finger into Leonard. "I'm getting to the main event." 

Leonard opened his mouth to say something, so Barry just rolled his eyes, pressing his fingertips against Leonard's prostate again and then rubbed his knuckles against the knot of the other gland. His cock ached in sympathy as he earned another rush of wetness from Leonard's body, and he couldn't resist nosing at Leonard's erection, hungry to have Leonard back in his mouth as he slid his lips over the head of Leonard's dick and started to suck.

Leonard jerked full-body beneath him, and Barry's scalp stung when Leonard yanked at his hair, his fingers flexing as he thrust into Barry's mouth. Barry choked and used a touch of speed to look Leonard over, to make sure he hadn't done something wrong—his worry was overtaken by his smugness, and he slowed to a normal speed before he swallowed Leonard's cock down as far as he could, milking him through the rest of his orgasm.

Once Leonard was panting, twitching beneath Barry, Barry pulled off with a small pop of sound and grinned at Leonard, patting his thigh. "So, _that's_ why you were getting cranky."

Leonard scowled. "I'm going to shoot you."

"Promises, promises." Barry pulled his fingers out of Leonard and stripped the glove off, tossing it into the trash can next to the bed. After, he rolled on a condom, and curled one hand around Leonard's hip to keep him steady, using the other to guide himself.

It was so easy that Barry slipped inside with only the most minor resistance, and he shivered, prickling all over with heat, feverish and too tight in his skin. He squeezed Leonard's thigh as he eased forward. Leonard was hot and wet, his muscles squeezing around Barry's cock as he continued the small, circular thrusts that helped him open Leonard up. He pulled back and thrust his hips one more time, pressing his lips together to keep back a moan as he slid in to the hilt. Leonard breathed a hard, shuddery sound, and Barry slid his hand from Leonard's thigh, up his side, and planted his hands on the mattress, caging Leonard in his arms as he rolled his hips again.

Barry's heart was pounding in his chest, and he pressed his forehead to Leonard's shoulder, panting for air, and whining low in his chest as he turned his face against the curve of Leonard's throat, licking at his pulse. He could taste Leonard in the air, and he squeezed his eyes shut, searching blindly for the kiss he so desperately needed and half expected Leonard to deny him.

Leonard's hands were surprisingly gentle as he guided Barry into the kiss, and Barry purred against Leonard's mouth, his chest rumbling in that strange way he hadn't quite gotten used to yet. Barry got lost in the fever of their bodies together as he licked into Leonard's mouth—he moved fast, but not too fast, the slap of their skin loud, the sweat and the heat rising between them making Barry tremble all over. He let instinct take over as he nipped at Leonard's lips, changing the angle of his thrust until Leonard whined, the sound so unexpected and so damned hot that for a moment Barry thought he'd accidentally come too soon, his stomach cramping with the immediacy of his want. He rolled his hips, grinding his cock into Leonard's ass, his thrusts growing shorter the closer he got to the pleasure he was chasing—

A brand of cold flared against Barry's shoulder, and he yelped, jerking away as he opened his eyes—Leonard was flushed pink, distractingly sweaty, but his eyes were intent on Barry's face, the nozzle of the cold gun pressed directly against Barry's skin. It whirred for a second, and then Leonard relaxed, removing his finger from the trigger.

"What was _that_ for?" Barry was, annoyingly, still hard, but he pulled out of Leonard entirely, retreating to the end of the bed. He swallowed, his shoulders hunching forward. Frustration made him itchy in his skin, and he followed Leonard's movements with short, sharp jerks of his eyes.

Leonard set the cold gun back on the nightstand and raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "You were trying to knot. We had an agreement."

Barry frowned and shook his head, a low, rumbling growl vibrating in his chest. "You didn't have to _shoot_ me."

"Quit whining. I didn't shoot you, I gave you a warning." Leonard set the gun back on the nightstand and reached out, slow and easy, and brushed his fingers against Barry's cheek. "C'mon, lay down. I'll take care of you."

Barry scoffed, jerking away from Leonard's touch. "Take care of me. Right."

Something shifted in Leonard's eyes, and he dropped his hand, his mouth curling in derision. "Did I hurt your feelings, Flash?"

"Don't." Barry bit out. "Don't do that. Not here."

"Let's play by your rules, then." Leonard looked away, terribly still, and when he looked back, his eyes were stormy. "What is it you expect me to do?"

"I don't— How can I—" Barry ran his hand through his hair and stood, whatever arousal he'd been feeling dying down under the weight of his tangled emotions. He sped around in a quarter of a second, disposing of the condom and getting dressed in the moment before Leonard responded.

Leonard blinked, saw that Barry was dressed, and closed his mouth again, a muscle working in his jaw. "Fine," he said calmly. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed his jeans off the floor, stepping into them as if that didn't immediately make them a gross, squishy mess.

"Len—"

"We're done here," Leonard said. "Clearly."

"Right," Barry said dumbly. His stomach churned, and his eyes went blurry as he turned to the door. He willed himself to reach for the doorknob, to let the Speed Force course through him until he was miles away, but he couldn't bring himself to make the first step. "Len, I need you to know. This wasn't about a hookup for me." He exhaled a shaky breath. "It's so stupid, we're here together and I can't even—"

Leonard's hand landed on Barry's shoulder and spun him around. Leonard's eyes were such a clear blue, glossy like polished ice, and Barry let Leonard push him against the door and ravage his mouth with a hard kiss that left him breathless. He clung to Leonard, helplessly, desperately kissing him back as he dug his fingers into Leonard's biceps. Barry whined when Leonard pulled away, and he dropped his forehead to Leonard's shoulder as he tried to suck air into his aching lungs.

"Stop screwing around, kid," Leonard growled into Barry's ear, and Barry went embarrassingly weak-kneed, swallowing around the lump in his throat. "Take that hypothetical offer. You take what happiness you can in both hands and you run and you don't look back."

Barry's eyes burned, and he turned his face against Leonard's jaw, taking a deep breath. Sweat, sex, skin. Leonard allowing Barry to say goodbye, in his own way.

He wished...

Barry refused to finish the thought and didn't wait another moment, flashing from Leonard's arms and setting his course for STAR Labs. The wind whipping past him burned away everything but his determination.

He could save his mother, return his life to the way it was supposed to be.

He had to try.

~*~


End file.
